Save Me
by Rad-Dork
Summary: I'm horrible with summaries. :S It involves some Kick/Gunther or Kinther, I guess. :P [First story here too]


**Author's Note: Hello! I'm glad you'll be reading my story today. So, this was done by the inspiration of the wonderful song, Save Me by Shinedown. If you'd like, you can listen to this while , before or after the story. :3 I hope you'll enjoy. Thanks for reading!**

Tapping my bare foot on the cold floor, I bite my lip and look ahead of myself- staring at my dresser. I am waiting. Waiting for a call. I've already gone around town posting the pictures on telephone poles, buildings, and- hell... even cars. Now, I wait. It's been around three or four weeks. His parents are worried sick. Though my worry might not be as strong as- wait. Scratch that. His parents love him, but I know I love him more. I definitely do. He's my best friend and I don't know what I'd do without him. Well now that he's been gone I feel weak. I haven't slept, leaving bags underneath my eyes that I'm now used to every time I look in the mirror. I haven't eaten, making my previously thick arms now very bony. I've barely left my room, not counting all the times I've looked for him. But I know I'll find him. I know I'll be with him again. I have to. I just have to.  
A ring rips throughout the dead air, and before I know it I'm grabbing at my cellphone. Taking a hold of it, I answer with worry in my voice, "Have you found him!?"  
I hear a sigh through the phone. I guess I should be worried but I decide to ignore it. "Kid..."  
"What?"  
"Don't come." By the sound of his voice, I know that he's Officer Belle.  
"Where is he!?" I ask, now getting angry.  
"I shouldn't tell you." He answers, in a tone that I couldn't read the void.  
Biting my lip even harder, I start bleeding from my mouth. Whatever. I don't care. "Please." I start, voice cracking. "Tell me."  
Another sigh. "The first building on 835 Willberry Street... But kid, you really shou-"  
I don't listen to his last words. Instead, I drop the phone and grab my skateboard immediately. Then, I jump on it and skate out of my house.  
"Nothing stops that boy..." Is what the officer says while I'm skating.

* * *

Riding through the streets, I can see the posters I previously put up. Sadly, most of them were stepped on or ignored. I can tell that no one really bothered to take a look at it. But it doesn't matter. I'm finding my best friend. Smiling, I think to myself about all the things we could do. I remember that it's almost summer break. We could go to the pool again or maybe even do the thing he's always wanted to do: Take a calm walk around Winster's Pond and even throw some bread at the ducks so they could gobble it all up. This all makes the corners of my lips curl. They haven't done that in a while.  
Finally, I'm where I want to be. Apparently an abandoned apartment complex. Oh no. That means someone kidnapped him. Good thing that they probably caught the bastard. My feet finally lead me up the stairs and into the hallway. I see a crowd of people in front of one room in specific, though. It's a mixture of reporters, police, medics and witnesses? I decide not to listen to them. I dive into the swarm and try to move past them.  
Suddenly, one person stops me. "Stop. You don't wanna go."  
"Yes I do." I answer to the chief bitterly.  
"No you don't. You need to leave it alone."  
"Listen, my friend needs me now. I'm probably a familiar face instead of all these other idiots surrounding here." I say, gesturing around the sea of people.  
The chief sighs. "Don't go, kid."  
I disobey him and shove him out of the way before meeting with one last strip of people. I use my shoulders to shoo them elsewhere as I start to smile again. The thoughts are still racing through my head of what we'll do when I see him. Of course, I don't want to hug him immediately.  
From this moment on, everything seems to stop and go minutes slower. I manage to push the other strip of conversing police officers out of the way. Thinking I would see him standing, I look up to his height. Instead, I see a foggy window. Now, I look down lower- believing he could be sitting too- that same smile sprawled on my face.  
My lips curl back down as I stare at the figure ahead of me. It's nothing like I've ever seen. I hope that I can erase it and completely forget about it but I know I can't. It's a fact I can't.  
Suddenly, I feel my face scrunch into a blubbering and crying expression. I start to charge at my friend. I feel my feet taking me somewhere before two pairs of hands are grabbing my upper arms, restraining me from going any further.  
He's dead. My best friend is dead. I can see that someone sliced his throat, leaving a dried out crimson liquid pour out of his wound and onto his arms. I see his eyes. They're definitely his but they're unfamiliar. They look sad and scared. Why wasn't I there? Why couldn't I have prevented this?  
Now I'm just yelling and cursing at the people yielding me from going any further. Spitting in their faces, kicking at them. I can't do much. I can't do anything at this point, actually. I finally feel my right arm feel a bit more free than the other. I take advantage of this by releasing it and balling it into a fist, throwing it at the other officer and knocking him back a bit. I do the same with the other but I feel someone grab my helmet. That's not a problem to me right now and I slide right out of my helmet, letting my thick locks curl around my ears. Quickly, I rush to my friend and succeed in wrapping my arms around him. I wish he could squeeze back, but he can't. I imagine he does though. All I do is just try to rock him back and forth with me. I seem to be chanting the words, "No no no no no no..." Although I shouldn't, I feel warmth. Maybe it's having him in my presence again but he's supposedly ice cold.  
Suddenly, I feel that 'warmth' escape my grasp and now I'm struggling to gain it back. The only thing I can keep is his red baseball cap. Now my feet are dragging. They must be hauling me out of the scene. Crimson stains are all over my clothes now. As I'm being involuntarily removed from the building, I overhear a news reporter stating what is happening.  
"It has been officially reported that the 15 year old boy that has been missing for nearly four weeks now, is dead. He was kidnapped, beaten, and killed. No one knows where his killer may be but the police say they're on the case."  
Everything starts to slip away from me, and I allow my eyes to close. I just need this nightmare to be over.

* * *

-Months Later...-

I try to flutter my eyes back awake, regaining my consciousness. I don't know why, but it just happens. Whenever I take a hit, I fall asleep for a few seconds but awake again. Ugh. This isn't helping. I clutch onto some whiskey I have next to me before I force it down my throat. Drinking the entire bottle now, I stand, feeling a buzz. Finally. This never makes me feel completely better but at least I feel something somewhat blissful. Standing myself up, I drag my ass towards a picture on my dresser. With a dopey grin, I recognize what the picture is, holding it and staring at it.  
It's an older picture of when my best friend and I were 13. He's preparing me for a stunt and I'm giving my signature hand gesture. I smile at it. Old times. Then my smile fades. "I'll never have that anymore." I whisper to myself. Suddenly, my door gets thrown open and I stare at the intruder.  
It's my sister. She's eying me, seeing how I've completely wasted away. I have unkept hair, barely have time for any other clothes besides my briefs, and I'm always drunk or high out of my mind. "What's going on here!?" She demands.  
"B-Bri... Hey w-wassup, sis- hic-y?" I look at her with an odd smile.  
She merely rolls her eyes and stomps away, obviously disgusted at my new lifestyle.  
I flip her the bird as she's out of sight and my attention is set back onto the picture. I release another hiccup and decide that I will try to do another stunt- although I haven't tried it in months. That's when I march towards my closet and dress myself.

Now I'm standing at the edge of a cliff I surprisingly haven't conquered before. Or I have... Perhaps I'm too drunk to comprehend my memories. Anyways, I ready my skateboard and I'm about to go down before I pull out a picture of him. I just look at it for a while before I stuff it back into my pocket and continue with my stunt. As I'm flying down, I feel that good ol' adrenaline I love. The wind blowing through my face, collar flying behind me- I forgot how wonderful this felt.  
Until I hear a strange clicking noise. I look down and see one of my wheels have managed to get loose and fly off. "No!" I exclaim, trying to keep my weight on the stronger side. Suddenly, I look back and see another wheel fly off. Upon turning my head, I witness a tree branch flying at my face. I don't have enough time to duck and I fly off my board. Now it's a steep hill and I'm tumbling downwards. I feel myself rolling down, practically somersaulting my way down the cliff. My skateboard is tumbling right next to me before I'm in mid air. Luckily, the whiskey wears off a bit and I barely catch myself as I cling onto the edge. I look beside me and find my skateboard plummeting down to the rocky end of the cliff. My skateboard probably busted into bits upon it's fall.  
I'm barely holding on with my life on the line. All I can think about is him. Memories flash before my eyes.  
We had great times. I remember when we first met... He seemed so loving and cheerful. He was loyal. A great friend. Recalling an old memory of us in school, I smiled at the thought. He was around four years old and so was I. I was actually getting bullied and he stood up for me. Ever since, we've been friends.  
I flash forward to times when we would hang out with others and how we would spend time in the gully when no one was around.  
And now I'm thinking about when we became more than best friends. How it felt when I first kissed him and how shocked he was- considering he thought he didn't have a chance with me. I remember how shocked I was when I realized I loved him.  
All of these and more are going by. If I fall... I die. I get to be with my best friend. My drunken state of mind actually does have a point. None of my other friends come over anymore. My family doesn't care and neither does the neighborhood. They think I'm some drug addict stunt kid who could care less. I just wanted to be with my only light. I only wanted to be with him. He's all I have, even if he's dead. I could die too. I could be with him. I argue with myself on this and more memories flash right before my eyes. I could end it all. I could be my own savior. I look down at all the sharp rocks. It would be immediate death. I smile wide and close my eyes.

And I let go.

* * *

I'm in a field. It's odd. I don't recall it being so bright in Mellowbrook. I see that I'm in my normal attire. Looking to my left, I see his bright and smiling face.  
"Hey, Kick." He says.  
All I can bring myself to say back to him is, "Hi, Gunther."

The End

**Author's Note: YOU MADE IT! You did it all by yourself! I'll probably make more Kick/Gunther stories that aren't so 'depressing'. Until then, review and check out my dA page as well. It's TheRadDork321 on deviantART. Bye everyone and thank you! c: **


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